


encounters from the other side of the bus stop

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, spoilers for season 1 of bluff city
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 12:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21731716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: "Excuse me," said Boots, "Does this bus go to the city?"Behind the murky glass, the driver turned to face him. Whatever expression they made at the question was lost to the distortion of scrapes, old tape, and faded timetables that covered the glass."Yeah," said the driver, their voice muffled, "we're direct to the city."
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	encounters from the other side of the bus stop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elestaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elestaus/gifts).

> for ele, who tweeted about this concept a little while ago (happy not-secret-samol ele)

Boots sighed as he waited at the bus stop, checking his phone for the fifth time. He'd been there almost an hour and _ none _of the buses had stopped. He was starting to think the Bluff City College Internships For A Brighter Future program had given him the wrong directions. The Bluff City Zoo internship hadn’t given him as many credits as they’d initially said they would, and so here he was, set to intern again at some business he’d never heard of in the city.

He pulled up the email on his phone again. He was on the right road. He was at the right stop, number thirty eight- actually, now that he was looking at the sign properly, it looked more like- Boots blinked. The sunlight hit the sign in such a way the the number seemed to change, shifting together and apart, together and apart-

A bus stopped in front of him, blocking his view. There were a few people on it, business-y looking types, which made him feel like he was on the right track. Business-y types would surely be going to the city.

"Excuse me," said Boots, "Does this bus go to the city?"

Behind the murky glass, the driver turned to face him. Whatever expression they made at the question was lost to the distortion of scrapes, old tape, and faded timetables that covered the glass. 

"Yeah," said the driver, their voice muffled, "we're direct to the city."

"Oh, great!" said Boots. "Great, thank you!"

He found a seat towards the back, pulling off his impermeable and putting it over his backpack next to him. He checked his phone again. He still had plenty of time. They'd said it was an evening internship, which wasn't _ ideal _, but weirdly gave him more credits than any of the other internships available in Bluff City. There hadn't been a lot of information about what the internship would actually entail, but it certainly couldn't be any stranger than the one at the Bluff City Zoo had been. 

Boots looked out the window, watching the highway. He must have dozed off at some point - it felt as though he had only blinked and the sandy highway had turned into swampland and suburbs. Boots straightened in his seat, pulling directions up on his phone again and scrolling up and down the email until the bus pulled to a stop. 

The handful of people on the bus stood, filing silently out of the door and Boots hurriedly followed. Some began walking with purpose, others stood, checking their watches before a car smoothly stopped in front of them. They wordlessly got in and the car sped away, back the way it had come.

Very quickly, Boots was alone at the bus stop. 

It wasn't quite what he was expecting. For one thing, his directions said the bus should have dropped him outside the office he was supposed to be working in, but the only business around of any kind was an empty cafe and an equally empty newsagent. 

Boots sighed. Typical. First the internship program sticks him in the zoo, then they can't even get their directions right.

There wasn't any directional signage, but most people had walked the same direction that the car had driven off in, and so Boots headed that way. Even if it wasn't where he needed to go, surely there would be someone for him to ask, eventually. 

The suburbs stretched on and on, each block made longer by the ache in his feet from his new business shoes.

He was starting to think that he should maybe head back, tell them he was sick or something and just borrow a friend's car to drive to the internship tomorrow, when he finally caught sight of taller buildings in the hazy skyline ahead. 

Boots checked the time. If he hurried and he was, actually, going the right way, he might just make it. 

As he got deeper into the city, there were more and more holiday decorations. They must have been something organised by the city, although they were much more uniform than anything he’d ever seen the Bluff City Council organise. There seemed to be people to go along with the decorations, santas and elves ringing bells on street corners, a cheerfully-decorated bucket between them.

The buildings got taller and more decorated, and Boots walked with confidence into the heart of them. He was definitely going the right way. The problem was, when he reached what seemed to be the downtown, that none of the street names matched the directions he had. 

Boots stopped on a corner, stepping behind a pillar so as to not get in the way on the busy street to reread the email with his directions on it. He frowned. He definitely hadn’t passed _ any _ of the streets the email mentioned, not even the one the email highlighted as being the main road through the city. He really _ was _ going to have to ask someone for directions.

He looked around. There was a santa on the other side of the road. He looked tired compared to the other santas Boots had passed, shoulders a little stooped and his bell not ringing out as forcefully. Boots hoped he wouldn’t mind the interruption.

Boots waved as he crossed the road. The santa gave him a quizzical look.

“Hello,” said Boots, “I’m sorry to bother you but, ah, do you know how to get to this place?”

He held up his phone, the screen showing the little map of the business he was supposed to be interning at. The santa shook his head.

“Oh,” said Boots. He looked down at the screen. “Because it’s supposed to be, well, here, I suppose. Or somewhere near here.”

The santa shrugged, shaking his head.

“Are you _ sure _?” said Boots.

“Listen, kid,” said the santa, “I’m really not supposed to talk.”

Boots frowned. “Why? Santa can talk.”

“Yes, but I’m not-” The man sighed. “I’m not supposed to engage in chit-chat, unless it’s about the city’s charity work, as that is what I am employed to do.”

“If you’re working as a charity santa,” said Boots suspiciously, glancing into the empty bucket beside him, “then how come no one's stopped?”

The man’s ringing of the bell faltered. “It’s- they like it, for the ambience.” He paused. “You, ah. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No,” said Boots, “I think I got off at the wrong stop.”

“You most definitely did,” said the man. He glanced over his shoulder. “Listen, kid, where-” He lowered his voice. “How did you get here?”

“I… took the bus?”

The man’s shoulder’s dropped even more than they already were.

“You took the bus…”

“Yeah,” said Boots, “I think I’m just going to go back and drive in tomorrow, this place is impossible.”

“Go back,” said the man faintly, “that’s- Look, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but… the bus doesn’t do pick ups from there.”

“Well where’s the place that does do pick ups?”

“If I knew _ that _ I wouldn’t be here,” said the man.

“I- Okay,” said Boots, “Okay, I, you know, thank you for your help, I will just go ask someone else.”

As he turned to leave, the man grabbed his wrist. Boots jerked his hand away.

“Sorry, sorry,” said the man, “I just- look, you have to understand. There is no way back.”

Behind the fake beard, the man’s eyes were serious. Boots took a step backwards.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’m going back to the bus stop.”

“I can’t stop you I suppose,” said the man, “but when you get tired of waiting for the bus, you’re going to have to admit I’m right.”

“Sure,” said Boots, “Okay. Goodbye.”

The sound of the bell seemed to follow Boots around the corner. He walked quickly, back through the city, through the suburbs back to the highway. The bus stop was just as he’d left it. Empty.

Boots sat down, and waited.

And waited.

And _ waited _.

Night began to fall, the air beginning to blow cold over the swampland. Boots pulled his impermeable tighter around himself. The road was silent, the only headlights far in the distance, heading into the city, never coming any closer.

It was a long walk back into the city. The santa he’d spoken to wasn’t there, replaced by a security guard, standing half in shadow.

“Ah, excuse me, sir?” said Boots carefully, “Do you know where the uh, the santa who was here went? I need to speak to him.”

“Finnegan?” said the guard, “Why’d you need to speak to him?”

“I… we were talking about… travel,” said Boots, “I have- does he work somewhere else, or is there some way I can contact him?”

The guard paused. “Travel, huh?”

Boots nodded, holding his breath.

“He eats at The Diner around the corner, that way,” said the guard, gesturing. He paused. “Don’t go causing a fuss. And if you do, don’t tell them I sent you.”

Boots nodded, hoping the security guard’s directions would be better than the ones from his internship emails. 

He could easily spot Finnegan as soon as he rounded the corner, his bright red santa suit sticking out among the grey suits either side of him.

“Ah,” said Finnegan, “You’re back.”

“I couldn’t- the bus didn’t come. You knew it wouldn’t, but I don’t- how did you know that?”

“You might want to sit down,” said Finnegan.

Boots slid into the booth seat opposite him. Finnegan pushed a glass of water towards him and Boots drank it gratefully.

Finnegan let out a long breath. “It’s- complicated. There are people here who go to Bluff City, sometimes, but they’re hard to reach and they don’t- it’s hard to find the correct incentive to get them to help you. I certainly haven’t been able to do it. Once you’re here that’s kind of just… it."

“I was just trying to get to the city!” says Boots.

“Well, you did,” says Finnegan, “this is it.”

Boots put his head in his hands. “What am I- I mean, there’s no way I can make it to my internship now, let alone… I don’t even think this is the right city.”

Finnegan nodded.

Boots looked up at him. “Well? Don’t you have _ any _advice?”

“I…” Finnegan wrinkled his nose, thinking. “Well, I suppose my advice would be to make the best of it. Find a sympathetic ear of someone who knows you and try to, you know… just try to make the best of it.”

“But I don’t know anyone!” said Boots.

Several of the other diners turned towards them. Finnegan sank down in his seat.

“It’s, ah. Well. Well! You know me, so that’s… that’s a start, I suppose,” said Finnegan. “See, there, it’s not so bad.”

“I don’t even have anywhere to _ stay _,” said Boots.

“Shh, hey, it’s- listen, it’s okay, you can stay with me,” said Finnegan, “there, right? So, it’s sorted, no need to fuss.”

“With you?” said Boots.

“Of course,” said Finnegan, “I’m, uh, happy to help, of course, until you get on your feet.”

Finnegan’s apartment was a lot like him, in that it was untidy and reminded Boots of Bluff City, but in a way that made home feel further away than ever, cluttered with postcards and pizza boxes and catalogues with the coupons half cut out of them. Finnegan hurried around, picking things off the couch and trying to push them into the overfilled closet. Boots stepped over to help him, trying to push the vacuum cleaner in far enough that they could push the door closed.

“What’s even in here?”

“Diving things,” said Finnegan.

“Oh, is that- I mean, I didn’t really see any beaches on the way here,” said Boots.

“There’s not,” said Finnegan, “it’s- it was my job, in another life. My old life.” He shook himself, giving one last push before the door clicked shut. “There, see? That’s fine. I’ll get you a blanket.”

Boots looked around the lounge while he waited for Finnegan, absent-mindedly straightening things, stacking old take-away containers by the sink. He picked up a dry cleaning bag from the floor, shaking it out and draping it over the back of the single kitchen chair.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Finnegan, “I need to take that back, really.”

“What is it?”

“An elf costume,” said Finnegan, “they were supposed to assign someone as a partner but they never got around to it, and then they ran out of elves.” He sighed. “I don’t suppose it matters, really.”

“Are they still hiring?” said Boots, “I could be an elf.”

Finnegan gave him a crooked smile. “I don’t know that I would recommend it. It’s not exactly a- well. It’s just a bit dull, really.”

“I don’t have a lot of other options,” said Boots, “Besides, then at least I have something while I figure out how to get back.”

Finnegan paused where he was shaking out the blanket. “How to get back. Right.”

\--

The job was… Well. It was no lion wedding ceremony.

They ate in silence in The Diner afterwards. Boots pushed his eggs from one side of his plate to the other.

“I’m- Boots,” said Finnegan. “I’m sorry.”

“You did tell me it wasn’t a good job,” said Boots.

“Not- Well, I suppose I am a little sorry about that, but that part of things can’t be helped,” said Finnegan, “I meant more that… I’m sorry you’ve ended up in this city.”

Boots’ throat felt tight. “I just… I wasn’t supposed to catch that bus, I guess.”

“No,” said Finnegan, “No, I’m certain you weren’t.”

Boots looked up. Finnegan was staring out the window, spinning his fork around and around in his pasta.

“I’m sure- I mean, for me, when I got here it was, I mean, terrible, obviously, but I still… I’d done things,” said Finnegan, “I could see how I’d led myself here.”

Boots swallowed. “We’ll both get back. Some day.”

Finnegan gave him a crooked smile, the same as he had the night before. “Of course. Some day.”

\--

The phone rang the next morning. Finnegan went into his room to answer it, voice hushed and excited, emerging from his room with a twitchy energy Boots hadn't seen from him before.

“Boots! Boots, you’ll… oh.” He looked down at the phone in his hand, mouth working silently. “I…”

Boots frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s good, everything’s fine,” said Finnegan. He paused. “Actually, I think I’m sick- ah, coming down with something, so, uh, you’ll have to, you know, go by yourself today, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Is that allowed? An elf by themselves?”

“Of course!” said Finnegan quickly, “of course! Now you, oh, you should head out now, don’t want to be late, it’s only your second day, after all! You want to make a good impression!”

“Are you… okay?”

“Yes- I mean, no, I’m coming down with something, like I said,” said Finnegan, “I’ll just rest up today and be right as rain tomorrow.”

Finnegan locked the door behind him, the curtains hurriedly pulled across the tiny front window. Boots frowned. As grateful as he was to this Finnegan guy, he certainly was odd.

The streets were much more crowded than they'd been the day before, people gathering for some kind of holiday parade. He skipped The Diner at the end of the day, wanting to get away from the noise of the crowd, dragging himself back to Finnegan’s apartment. Boots knocked on the door for a while, before giving up and lifting up the fake rocks scattered around the door until he found one with a spare key on the bottom.

Inside, the apartment was dark and, more notably, it was empty.

Something twisted in the pit of Boots’ stomach

There was a new pizza box on the kitchen bench. Inside was two slices of cold pepperoni pizza and a receipt with writing on the back of it, the words smudged with grease. 

_ Boots, _

_ Found a way home!!! The deal’s only for me and anyway we couldn’t wait, sorry. They mentioned another way out through a tunnel, take my diving gear. Good luck!!! _

_ \- F Hands _

_ PS: Please destroy this note after you read it! _

Underneath were some rough directions to somewhere out in the suburbs and a drawing of what Boots assumed was a tunnel. _ Dive here, swim through. _

More directions, Boots thought ruefully. He hoped these worked.

\--

They did work.

Or, they led him to somewhere that looked enough like Finnegan’s crude drawing that Boots _ thought _they’d worked. There was a river full of swirling grey water and a dark tunnel, at least. The only sign that this spot might be in any way special was the two sets of tire tracks in the soft mud, leading into the water.

Boots glanced back towards the lights of the city. He hadn’t been here very long but he didn’t think he liked it very much, or that he would ever come to like it.

He looked back at the water, switching on the waterproof torch that had been with Finnegan’s diving gear to try and get a sense of how deep it was. The water remained stubbornly murky, moving sluggishly past him.

He looked back at the city again. It didn't look any more welcoming, the lights cold and distant. He looked down at the diving mask in his hands. 

"Well," said Boots. 

The diving gear was a struggle to get on, as was securing the impermeable around his backpack. He tapped a fingernail against the air tank, not sure what to make of the sound. The small dial said the tank was half full. He would just have to hope that would be enough to get him to wherever the other side of the tunnel was. 

Boots secured the mask around his face and waded into the water, gasping at the chill of it through the diving suit. He switched on the torch once he got underwater but it didn’t seem to make any difference, so he turned it off. It was easier to pretend he was just imagining things in the dark if he couldn't actually see anything.

The lights of the city disappeared as he began to swim. He moved slowly in the dark, one hand on the wall of the tunnel. It was impossible to know how long he’d been down, how much air he had left in the little tank. 

And then, a light.

Brighter, and wider, and dryer somehow, until he wasn't swimming through a tunnel at all but walking in clothes that were only a little damp, along the side of a busy road tunnel. Boots glanced behind him. It was just more road, dimly lit by fluorescent light. He lifted his hand from the wall, looking at it. His fingertips were wrinkled, black algae under his nails.

Boots took the scuba mask off, blinking as the air blew against his sweat-damp skin. He could see the sky ahead of him, partially blocked by a road sign and not the perfect blue of home, but not the grey haze of Blough City either.

He took a deep breath in as he emerged from the tunnel. Car fumes and sea air and fried food. Not quite home but not quite _ not _ home. Boots leaned against the sign by the tunnels entrance for a moment, looking up at the sky before he shifted his focus to read the sign itself. 

_ Atlantic City Zoo _

_ 1.5 Miles _

Boots looked at the sign for a moment. Something bubbled up inside him until it came out of him as a laugh. 

Alright then. Atlantic City Zoo. Seemed like as good a place to start as any.

Grey clouds drifted over a blue sky above him as he walked. It might rain later, but before that, it would be a beautiful day.

Wouldn't matter if it did. He had his impermeable with him, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
